


Breakfast in Bed

by LittlebutFiery



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, just a lil drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 18:59:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8812348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlebutFiery/pseuds/LittlebutFiery
Summary: Viktor and Yuuri attempt to make each other breakfast in bed.One of them is successful.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy! This is my first YoI fic and I'm brand-new to the fandom, so please forgive me if either one of them is OOC!

Yuuri Katsuki was not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination. Getting up before the crack of noon was earlier than he preferred, given the chance.

Then again, your one month-iversary with your first boyfriend _ever_ wasn’t really something you could go without celebrating.

So instead of sleeping curled up against Viktor and Makkachin, Yuuri was in the kitchen, fighting with syrniki dough and wondering why the hell Viktor’s favorite breakfast had to be just as difficult as Viktor himself.

The idea had come from Nishigori of all places, when Yuuko had gushed about how he’d made her breakfast in bed on her birthday. It had been the perfect plan – who didn’t love breakfast in bed? Viktor could be just as much of a lazy bum as Yuuri; he’d be sure to love a meal he didn’t even have to put on pants for.

But this couldn’t just be _any_ breakfast in bed. No, this had to be just as perfect as Viktor was to Yuri.

What better than his favorite Russian breakfast?

At the time, it had seemed like a fabulous idea. Pancakes and sausage and cereal and tea couldn’t be _that_ hard to make. Right?

Oh, but it could, Yuuri grumbled to himself. The pancake consistency was all wrong, the sausage wasn’t cooking fast enough, and the Katsuki household was somehow out of cereal. _Cereal!_

He grumbled louder and set to work with even more determination. This _had_ to be right. This had to be _perfect_.

*

Viktor woke to the smell of something delicious wafting in from the kitchen. He sleepily observed that Mama Katsuki must be making something for breakfast.

He was almost back to sleep when the smell got stronger and a gentle sound indicated that the bedroom door was opened and closed.

“Viktor?” Yuuri asked timidly.

The Russian man rubbed his eyes and stretched, still half-asleep, before looking up at Yuuri with a dopey, lovestruck smile.

“Morning, Yuuri,” Viktor half-sang.

“Morning,” Yuuri smiled. “I, uh…made you breakfast.”

“Oh,” Viktor said simply. “I was wondering what that smell was.”

He sighed dramatically. “It smells delicious, but moving is just _so_ difficult.”

Yuuri laughed quietly. “Good thing I, uh, brought it with me.”

“What?” Viktor asked. He rubbed his eyes again, _really_ looking at Yuuri, and finally noticed that he was holding something.

Yuuri’s cheeks were scarlet. “I made you breakfast in bed.”

He shoved the tray towards Viktor, staring at his feet as his blush somehow intensified. Viktor took it, regarding Yuuri with a soft smile and warmth in his eyes.

“What did I do to earn this?” Viktor asked brightly. When Yuuri looked confused, Viktor went on, “I would like to know, so I can do it again. Unless it’s because I’m devilishly handsome, in which case, I can hardly help that.”

Yuuri mumbled something very quickly in the direction of the floor. Viktor teased, “Yu-uri, you know you have to speak up.”

“We’ve been dating for a month today and I wanted to make you something special,” Yuuri blurted out, flustered, as he finally met Viktor’s eyes.

That was enough to get Viktor moving. He set the tray aside, sat up, and pulled Yuuri onto the bed with him, squeezing him in a tight hug. He murmured into Yuuri’s ear, “You’re the only special something I need.”

Yuuri’s cheeks, which had been fading to their normal color, immediately turned crimson again. He pushed himself away, squeaking, “I hope you like it!”

Well, that was cue enough to try his breakfast. Viktor pulled his tray back onto his lap, digging into the syrniki.

He chewed for a moment, deep in thought, before a stunned, dazed expression glazed over his eyes. Yuuri all but whimpered, “You…don’t like it.”

Viktor shook his head vigorously, eyes lighting up. “Yuuri, this is…perfect.”

Yuuri blushed. “Stop it. Nothing I do is perfect.”

“ _Everything_ you do is perfect,” Viktor insisted. “I love you.”

Yuuri recoiled startled. After a moment he smiled, finally a relaxed smile, and said, “I love you too.”

One week later, and Viktor was wishing he’d taken up Mama Katsuki’s offer of cooking lessons.

If there was one thing Viktor couldn’t stand, it was being outdone. He had _adored_ Yuuri’s touching show of affection, so now it was time to return the favor. Yuuri had cooked him a Russian breakfast? Very well, Viktor would surprise Yuuri with a traditional Japanese breakfast.

Viktor wasn’t exactly a practiced cook, so the idea of making anything more complicated than pasta was more than a little terrifying. But this was for Yuuri – it would be just as deliciously perfect as his wonderful boyfriend.

Since when had Yuuri been delicious?

He shook off the odd thought, looking back to his phone for the step-by-step guide he’d found to making a Japanese breakfast.

Granted, despite not really knowing what he was doing, everything was going pretty well. The miso soup was cooking nicely, the rice was in a pot on the stove, and the egg he was frying looked just about perfect.

He paused to check Instagram, which turned into a twenty-minute long comment battle between him, Christophe, and Phichit on one of Phichit’s photos.

After claiming victory in the battle, Viktor returned to the breakfast he was making.

Or, well, what was left of it.

*

“Oh, Yu-uri!” Viktor’s singsong voice woke Yuuri from some of the best sleep he’d had in ages.

“Ugh, what?” Yuuri groaned, not even daring to look at the clock.

“I just wanted to say thank you for the breakfast you made me last week,” Viktor went on, still half-singing.

Yuuri rubbed his eyes. “You did that that morning. And…that night too.”

The younger man blushed, remembering Viktor’s particularly enthusiastic thank-you gesture the night of their month-iversary.

Viktor winked. “I can’t thank you again?”

“Maybe not so early in the morning,” Yuuri protested, blushing brighter.

Viktor laughed, setting down the tray he held on Yuuri’s lap. Confused, Yuuri fumbled for his glasses, putting them on before realizing what sat on his lap.

“Breakfast?” Yuuri asked. He smiled up at Viktor. “Thank you.” 

“I’m no chef, but I am certainly proud of it,” Viktor proclaimed. There was something in his voice that didn’t sound quite as confident as his words.

“You okay?” Yuuri asked, confused.

“Of course,” Viktor beamed, but it was his media smile, not his usual reserved-for-Yuuri smile.

“O-okay,” Yuuri said, not believing it. He picked up the chopsticks on the tray and dug into the rice Viktor had made.

Immediately, reflexively, he spat it back out. He choked out, “Um…it’s…great, Viktor.”

Viktor sighed. “I burned that too, didn’t I?”

“Maybe a little,” Yuuri admitted sheepishly.

Before Yuuri knew what was happening, Viktor was curled up in a ball on the floor, dramatically moaning about what an awful partner he was. Yuuri immediately rolled out of bed, pulling Viktor into a tight hug. He all but yelled into his boyfriend’s ear, “It’s okay! I love it anyway! You’re perfect and wonderful and not a bad cook at all!”

To prove his point, he grabbed the tray from the bed, choking down the entirety of the more-than-slightly burnt breakfast Viktor had made. Yuuri knew he was going to regret it later in the day, but the look on Viktor’s face made it worth it in the moment.

Yuuri pulled Viktor into a hug again. “Thank you, Viktor.”

Viktor snuggled close to him. “Anything for you.”

Yuuri blushed. They were quiet for a moment before Yuuri worked up the courage to whisper in Viktor’s ear, “So…does this mean it’s my turn to thank you tonight?”

Now _that_ look on Viktor’s face was truly worth it.


End file.
